


By the dashboard lights

by Builder



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Concussions, Flu, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Spencer JJ friendship, Spencer Reid Whump, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Bad luck comes in the form of a concussion.  Bad luck continues with the flu.





	By the dashboard lights

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt from Tumblr. Find me @builder051

Spencer’s embarrassed to admit it, but he doesn’t remember a lot between the unsub knocking him flat on his back and walking onto the jet.  He knows stuff happened.  Hours worth of stuff.  But it’s all lost in a haze of headache.

“You sure you feel up to flying?” JJ asks, patting Spencer’s shoulder.  

He adjusts his white-knuckled grip on he ramp’s railing and nods.  It’s dark outside, so the shapes of other planes and air traffic control towers are dim anyway, but they coalesce into a sickening blur as he moves his head.

“I know the doctor cleared you, but there’s nothing wrong with taking it easy for a day.  We could go back to the hotel for another night.”

“Yeah, I know,” Spencer murmurs, forcing his feet to move in a straight line.  “I just.  Really want to get home.”

“And after a day like this, who wouldn’t?”  Hotch turns around in the jet’s doorway and casually offers his hand.  Spencer doesn’t want to reach for the support, but when he trips over the gap between the ramp and the carpeted floor, he has no choice.  

“Sorry.”  Spencer’s bag slips off his shoulder, further compromising his balance.  

“You have a concussion,” JJ reminds him, reaching for the bag.  “It’s ok to not be feeling your best right now.”

“I’m…tired.”  Spencer wonders why he’s even trying to speak.  He’s only stating the obvious.  And he’s slurring.

“It’s just a couple hours’ flight,” Hotch says, helping Spencer to a seat.  “We’ll have you home soon.”

Home.  He wants to go home.  Spencer thinks he’s already said that.  But… “We finished, right?  We solved it?”

“Yeah, we’re done with this case,” JJ says, sitting beside Spencer and tucking his bag under the seat.  “You don’t need to think about it.  It’s over.  You need to rest.”

But he has a concussion.  “Is…are you sure that’s safe?”  He looks at JJ, trying to blink her face into focus.

“Yeah.”  She gives him a gentle smile.  “I’ll wake you up in a little bit, if you want.”  

“Yeah, ok…”  Spencer scrubs his hands over his face.  “Sorry.  I’m…really confused.”  The more he tries to talk, the heavier his tongue feels in his mouth.  He swallows hard and wonders if he feels sick or just tired.

“Don’t worry about it.  No one’s expecting anything from you right now.  We just need you to take care of yourself.”  JJ pulls a pillow from nowhere and offers it to Spencer.  He takes it with shaky hands and tucks it against the window.  

“You sure this is ok?” He asks again.  His eyelids are already sliding shut.

“Yeah,” JJ says.  “You’re gonna be fine.”

Spencer takes her word for it.  He drifts into unconsciousness almost immediately, and it seems like hardly a second passes before someone’s waking him up.  

“Hey, Spence,” JJ whispers.  “Open your eyes for a second.”

He does, but the dim lighting in the jet stabs at his retinas, and he squints.  “’M ok,” Spencer mumbles.

“Yeah, you are.”  JJ puts her hand on his arm.  “You awake enough to answer a question or two?”

“Mm.”  

“Alright.  You know what year it is?” she sks.

Spencer considers for a second, and his head spins.  Warmth flashes over his body, and he lets his breath out, hoping he’s not about to throw up.  He’s not sure what the question was.  

“Hm.  What?”  His head throbs.  He presses his fingers against a particularly sore spot on his hairline.  Spencer winces, and JJ takes his hand.

“Yeah, that’s where you got hit,” JJ says.  “What year is it?”

He got hit?  Well, that would explain the headache.  And the nausea.  He probably has a concussion.  And he has no idea what year it is.  Probably not 1999.

“Two thousand…something.”

“You’re in the right ballpark.”  JJ sounds a little disappointed.  “Let’s try a different one.  How about…the lowest prime number?”

Spencer takes a breath to stabilize himself, but that answer comes more automatically.  “Two,” he breathes.

“Alright, good.” JJ says.  “You want a drink of water?  Or just to go back to sleep?”

“I’ll just…” Spencer shifts against the pillow, trying to find a more comfortable position.  His stomach feels like it’s sitting in his chest.  “I don’t feel very good.”

“I know.”  JJ squeezes his hand.  “Just rest.  We’ll be home soon.”

That sounds good.  He’s heard that before.  “Ok,” Spencer tries to say, but he’s already drifting off again.

He doesn’t know what wakes him up next.  It’s probably JJ’s kind touch on his arm again, but the sensation is minimal compared to the roaring pain and vertigo battering inside his skull.  

“Hey.  We just landed.”  JJ bends to retrieve Spencer’s bag.  “Ready to go?”

The details are fuzzy.  Spencer wants to ask where they’ve been and what happened and why he feels so sick.  He doesn’t, though.  He feels like he’s already supposed to know the answers.  And he’s so nauseous he doesn’t really want to open his mouth.  He nods, then holds his hand to his forehead to keep the world from spinning.

“Alright, easy.”  JJ grips Spencer’s hands and pulls him to his feet.  “We’ll go slow.”

“Ok.”  He’s glad JJ keeps ahold of his elbow, because he can’t think of a better way to keep from falling.  As they shuffle toward the exit, Spencer tries to run through facts to place himself in time and space.

They’re home.  

So they were just…somewhere.

Which probably means they were on a case.

He should be working.  

He’d love to be working, but every ounce of his concentration has to go into holding down the nausea that’s threatening to overflow at any moment.

“Whoa, whoa, easy.”  JJ tightens her grip on Spencer’s arm.  He realizes he’s weaving, even with JJ’s support.  He reaches blindly for something else to grab onto, but his hand finds only empty air.  He feels his eyes roll up in his head and the fall starts in slow motion.

“Spence, ok, sit down.”  JJ’s arm goes around his waist, and somebody else grabs him from the other side.  The ground materializes under him, and his forehead folds down onto his knees.  He struggles to hold onto consciousness.  He blinks rapidly and takes a deep breath through his nose.  

“I’m…I’m ok,” Spencer murmurs.

“Reid,” Hotch’s voice says.  He says something else, but it’s lost in the buzzing in Spencer’s ears.  There’s mumbling behind him, probably the rest of the team.  Spencer catches the word ‘ambulance.’

“No, I’m ok, really,” Spencer insists.  He turns his head to look at Hotch, or maybe JJ, but everything’s blurred.  Bile rises in his throat, and he gags before he can stop himself.

His body jolts forward a few inches, bringing renewed pressure to his head.  He throws up down the front of his shirt, then tries to choke out words.  “I’m ok.”  He stops to cough.  “I promise.”

“Spence,” JJ sighs.  “You’re really hurting.”

“The hospital might be a good idea,” Hotch says over Spencer’s head.

“I was…I went already,” Spencer breathes.  “Right?”  He doesn’t know for sure, but he feels the pieces stirring in gap in his memory.  “I just…”  He pauses to swallow down another heave.  “Want to go home.”

“You’re sick, you’re barely conscious…”  Spencer can practically hear Hotch shaking his head.

“I’m alright,” he says again, though he knows it’s less convincing each time.

“You can’t go back to your apartment by yourself, not like this,” Hotch insists.

“Why don’t you come home with me?”  JJ suggests, patting Spencer’s back.  “Come stay in the guest room, and we’ll see how you’re feeling tomorrow.”

“I’m—”  Spencer can’t bite back the retch.  Bile drips down his chin and onto the carpet.  “Sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s ok,” JJ says.  “Just breathe.  I’ll make sure Will has ginger ale in the fridge, alright?”

Spencer wipes his mouth on his sleeve.  “I don’t want to…impose…”  He coughs weakly.  “I’m just gonna be nauseous.  Probably sleep…”

“All the better reason for you to stay,” JJ says.  “Will’s a good nurse.  Henry’s getting good, too.  He’ll jump at the chance to take care of his godfather for a few days.”

Spencer can’t help but smile at that, though moving his face is still painful.  He reaches up and lets JJ and Hotch pull him back to his feet.  Once he’s sure he’s not in imminent danger of passing out or vomiting again, he moves his feet toward the exit.

***

Each time JJ steps on the brake, she glances over at Spencer.  He slumps against the window, his eyes shut and his arms wrapped around his stomach.  “You ok?” she asks.  She’s said it four or five times already, but she can’t help herself.

“Mm.”  Spencer barely nods.  “I’m good.”

It’s obvious he’s lying.  JJ makes sure to ease the car to a gentle stop before she turns into the driveway.

Will meets them at the door and helps usher Spencer to the couch.  “You just rest for a minute,” he drawls.  “Unless you’d rather lie down in the guest room?”

“I don’t…really want to move,” Spencer whispers.

“Ok, that’s alright,” Will assures.  He turns to JJ.  “What about you?  Can I get you some breakfast or something?”

JJ checks her watch.  She’s surprised to see it’s three in the morning.  “I’m alright,” she says.  “I’ve lost my sense of the time zone.”

“Well, how about a cup of tea?  Something decaf?  You look like you could use some rest yourself.”

“I’m really ok,” JJ insists.  “But maybe a glass of water and some ibuprofen?”  She nods at Spencer.  “He had some at the hospital, but it’s probably worn off by now.”

“Yeah, of course.”  Will heads to the kitchen, and JJ hears him put the kettle on the stove.  She rolls her eyes at his doting and sits on the couch beside her friend.

“Let’s get this off you, ok?”  JJ reaches to unbutton Spencer’s vomit-stained shirt.

Spencer doesn’t protest, and JJ takes it as a sign of how awful he’s feeling.  “We’ll get you hydrated a little bit,” she says.  “Then you can go to sleep.”

“’M I allowed to?” Spencer slurs.

“Yeah.  The doctor you saw at the ER said it would be ok.  Your body heals when you sleep.  I’ll wake you up every few hours just to make sure everything’s ok.”

“Yeah, ok…”  Spencer rubs his temple.  “I’m…really sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” JJ says.  “We’re a team.  This is how it should be.”

“You’re like family,” Will chimes in, delivering water and a bottle of pills.

“Well.  I mean.”  Spencer stumbles over his words as he shakily takes a sip.  “Thanks.”

The three of them sit in the living room and nurse their drinks until exhaustion takes precedence.  JJ follows Spencer into the guest room and leans against the door frame as he slips into bed.

“Tell me if you need anything, ok?” she says.  “Come in the master bedroom, or just yell out.”

Spencer nods absently and winces.

“I’m serious.  Don’t worry about bothering us.  Your health is the most important thing.”

“Ok.”  He says, pulling the covers up to his chin.  “I, uh.  Thanks again.”

“Of course, Spence.  Get some rest.  I’ll wake you up in a couple hours.  Ask you some more annoying questions.”  JJ smiles.

The ghost of a smile passes Spencer’s lips as well.  Once she’s sure he’s settled, JJ heads to her own room.

She changes into pajamas and brushes her teeth.  As she puts her toothbrush away, Will comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist.  

“Hey.  Not tonight.  We have a guest,” JJ says, looking over her shoulder at her husband.  

“I know,” he says with a laugh.  “I just wanted to give you a hug. Nothing too naughty about that.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”  

“You look kind of pale.  You feeling ok?” Will asks.

“Sure.  I didn’t get hit or anything.  Spence was the only one who got tangled up in that.”

“No, I mean, in general,” Will clarifies.  “Henry said his stomach hurt earlier.  I think a bug might be going around.”

“Well, keep a close eye on him.  We don’t need two sick kids in the house.”

Will lets out a nervous chuckle and moves to turn down the bed.  “I have to agree there.”

***

In two hours, JJ’s alarm goes off.  She silences it quickly and tiptoes down the hall to the guest room.  “Spence?” she whispers, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table.  

The bed is empty.  JJ’s heart drops.  Where did he go?  Did he wander off somewhere, confused and hurting?

The sound of a pained retch echoes from the bathroom next door.  Relief immediately replaces her panic, but JJ’s still worried when she enters the small, dark room.

“Hey, Spence,” she says, squatting beside his hunched form.  “The headache still turning your stomach?”

“Mm.  I guess…”  Spencer coughs into the toilet.  He gags again, but nothing seems to come up.

“I’m gonna get you some more water,” JJ says.  “You’re getting all dehydrated again.”

“Ugh.”  Spencer doesn’t disagree.

JJ fills a paper cup with tap water, and watches Spencer take a tentative swallow.  

“You can go back to bed,” he chokes.  “Unless you…were gonna ask me questions…?”

JJ’s completely forgotten about that.  “Oh,” she says.  “Yeah, I was going to do that.  But you seem pretty coherent.  I’m less worried about brain damage than I am about—”  

Spencer gags again.

“Well, that.”

“I’m ok,” Spencer insists, though his voice comes out as a shaky breath.  
“I’ll sit with you for a while.  Just until it lets up,” JJ says.  She settles into the corner where the edge of the bathtub meets the wall.  

“I’m ok,” Spencer repeats.  Though he nods into the toilet seat anyway.

***

JJ doesn’t remember drifting off, but when she next opens her eyes, light streams in through the bathroom window.  “Huh?” She groans sleepily, taking in the shivering lump of Spencer’s body spread out on the floor in front of the toilet.  “Oh my god.”

A quick glance at the wall clock tells her another couple hours have passed.  If he’s been too nauseous to move for this long…  JJ shakes her head, wishing he’d woken her up.

“Spence?”  She crawls forward and places a hand on his shoulder.  “You awake?”

“Mm.”  It sounds like it comes through gritted teeth.  Spencer’s hair falls over his face, but his skin glistens with sweat and looks almost grey.  Perspiration dampens his shirt around his neck and under the arms as well.  Heat radiates off him, and JJ relocates her hand to his cheek.

“You’re burning up,” she says.  “Do you feel feverish?”

Spencer shifts and curls further in on himself.  “’S my stomach, mostly.”

“Wow, ok…”  JJ shakes her head to rid herself of her sleepy fog.  “How’s your head?”

“Not…I don’t know.  I’m, uh…” Spencer stops to swallow convulsively.  “Dizzy?  Just keep…throwing up.”

“Ok.  I don’t think this is just post-concussion symptoms anymore,” JJ says.  “Last night Will said something about a bug going around.  Just exactly what you don’t need right now.”

“Hm.”  Spencer takes a slow, measured breath, then scrambles to get upright in time to dry heave over the toilet bowl.

“Alright, ok,” JJ soothes.  Spencer’s so pale and shaky she hastens to provide support in case he collapses backward.  

He stops heaving after a few moments, and JJ pats him on the back.  

“Sorry,” Spencer mutters.

“I don’t want to hear you say that again, ok?” JJ fights to keep the concern from her voice.  “You’ve done nothing wrong.  We’ll get you some rest and some hydration…I promise, you’ll be just fine.”


End file.
